


Safe and Sound

by Dystopian_Dramaqueen, thismidnight



Series: When You Find Me [4]
Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV), The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
Genre: Alternative Storyline for S3, Angst with a Happy Ending, At a remote cabin, Catharsis, Confessions, Consensual Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Forgiveness, Guilt, Healing, Reconnection After The War, Reunited after a year apart, The beginning of their happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-08-31 22:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dystopian_Dramaqueen/pseuds/Dystopian_Dramaqueen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thismidnight/pseuds/thismidnight
Summary: Nick sends for June. Bringing her to the safety of a remote cabin he remembered from his childhood. After a year apart they reconnect and heal.The next installment of "When You Find Me" Series.An alternate story line for Season 3 of The Handmaid's Tale.Happy ending guaranteed.*** Chapters 5 is New ***





	1. Arrival

> _ just close your eyes, the sun is going down _
> 
> _ you'll be alright, no one can hurt you now _
> 
> _ come morning light, you and i'll be safe and sound _

Nick indulges a deep yawn, rubbing his weary eyes- strained and irritated from watching the road all day. He hugs his legs to his chest. Resting his forehead on his arms. It feels good to close his eyes. Just for a moment. 

He’s been waiting here, on the edge of an abandoned highway, since noon. Senses at full alert. The drop-off was scheduled for 3 AM, and he’d finished his preparations days ago. Everything was stocked and ready. He didn’t have any projects or tinkering to keep his mind occupied. No way to keep his nervous excitement at bay. He was getting too antsy cooped up in the cabin, so he headed out early.

Lifting his head, he checks his watch, tapping his index finger anxiously on his forearm. 3:27 am._ Any time now. _

He straightens out his stiff legs in front of him, leaning his head against the tree behind him, eyes closing again with another, deeper yawn. He settles back, listening to the music of the night time forest swelling around him. The high pitched chorus of chirping insects. Rodents and possums rustling dead leaves as they wander the forest floor. Owls calling softly from the trees. Leaves shaking as the cool breeze moves through the woods. A small smile starts as he feels his tension unwinding, the sounds of the forest keeping his anxiety over the late arrival at bay. _ Feels good here. Like home. Quiet. Safe. _

_ He’d always felt at home outdoors, in nature. Ever since he was a kid. His childhood home had backed up to a public park that served as a playground for him and Josh. They spent hours outside every day, building treehouses, cutting secret trails that only they knew. _

_ Nick’s was 12. Josh was 15. The year their mother died. _

_ She had a seizure. A brain scan at the emergency department found an aggressive brain tumor known to be universally fatal. Their father insisted the doctors do everything they could for her. Incurring massive medical bills his family would never pay off in the process. But none of the treatments made a difference or eased her suffering. She died 2 months after her diagnosis. _

_ Their father refused to go to church after that. He’d prayed earnestly, whole-heartedly for the love of his life to recover. But she hadn’t. She died anyway. It broke him. Like nothing he did mattered anymore. He lost his faith in everything. He honestly wished he could die too, so he could be with her. He told Nick that several times. He had lived for his wife. The pain from her loss was too big and he never recovered. So he numbed himself with drink. Disappearing slowly. Nick was always thankful his dad wasn’t a violent drunk. He and Josh didn’t show up to school with bruises like some of their friends, but watching a family member kill themselves slowly was its own kind of torture. Nick and Josh raised themselves best they could, until Josh followed in their father’s footsteps. _

_ Nick had always enjoyed church. The formality and ceremony of it. The poetic words of the psalms. The comforting music of the hymns. But his father forbade them from going after his mom died. Saying it was all bullshit. So nature became Nick’s sanctuary. The forest canopy his cathedral. Vaulted ceilings replaced by arching branches. Sunlight filtering through pale green leaves like stained glass. Bird songs instead of a choir. When he was outside, he was ok. Safe. In the woods, he felt the presence of something sacred. _ _He knew he was part of a bigger plan. _

_He knew that things would be ok. _

Nick’s eyes snap open. He raises his head, listening carefully. Unsure if he’s really hearing anything or not. The forest around him falls quiet as well, the animals and insects as still as he is. 

Nick stands quickly, brushing the dirt from his pants and taking a few steps toward the road. He narrows his eyes as he scans the horizon for the hundredth time that day. Sure enough, he sees movement on the highway, the low hum of a diesel engine growing louder as the black van approaches. 

_ Headlights off. It’s them. _

He pulls a flashlight off his belt and holds it up. Hesitant to give away his location. Going through the same internal debate he’s had with himself every week the past 2 months as Mayday dropped off the supplies he’d requested. _ No one comes this way anymore. We’re not in Gilead. These are my guys. They need to know where to stop. _

He flips the switch, flashing a beam of light toward the van. They flick their lights on in response, pulling off the road and turning the engine off. 

The headlights go out. His flashlight goes out. All is darkness again. 

Nick’s hand is on his gun as he walks quickly to the back of the van. Heart pounding from a potent mixture of fear and excitement. 

Men in long black trench coats and tactical pants exit the van and walk back to meet him, boots crunching on the gravel beneath them. 

Nick’s stomach turns. His nervousness at their approach is automatic. He feels it every fucking time he’s this close to one of these vans. He blows out a slow breath. Trying to show none of his fear. Give nothing away. If this goes badly he’ll need a clear head to act quickly.

The driver opens the back doors and Nick sees her. Dressed in red. Crumpled on the metal floor of the van. Still. Too still. The image triggers concern. His adrenaline surges. This exact image has haunted his nightmares. Seeing it in front of him fills him with an urgent need to get her out of there as quickly as possible. 

“She ok?” He asks, trying to keep his voice even. Stepping closer. Fighting the instinct to scoop her up right then. 

“Yeah. Just sleeping. Been a long few days.” Says the driver gently as he helps June sit up. “Hey, we’re here.” 

June startles, shoving the stranger’s hands away, sitting up quickly, blinking. Looking around nervously. Disoriented. As terrified of the Eyes as Nick is. 

Reassurance floods Nick’s veins when June’s eyes find his in the darkness. Her face softens. Like she’s clinging to him. Like if he’s here, if he’s ok- then she must be ok too. 

He nods tightly. 

June is frozen, staring back at him, her face blank as the cobwebs of sleep fall away.

The other Mayday soldier, meanwhile, is standing at Nick’s side, too close for comfort. Staring. 

Nick turns his head, glancing at him briefly. 

The soldier salutes him. “Mr. Blaine, Sir, it’s an honor to finally meet you.” He holds out his hand tentatively. 

Nick nods acknowledgment. Eyes quickly returning to June’s. 

“It’s Nick, just call me Nick.” 

The young soldier lowers his hand, continuing to stammer on nervously. Clearly star struck. “Sir, we just want you to know how thankful we are. For everything...for everything you did.”

Nick isn’t listening. He’s taking June’s arm as she steps out of the van. His entire focus on her. Her legs are weak and she nearly falls as her legs cramp after days of disuse. But Nick catches her, holding her up. When she regains her balance, he shifts, wrapping an arm around her, hand on her low back. 

June gazes up into his eyes like she’s looking at a ghost. He stares back, gaze heavy with so much that can’t be said here. Jaw clenching tightly as he swallows the lump in his throat.

“You okay?” He asks softly. 

She nods as she tightens her grip on his arm. 

The driver closes the back doors of the van. “Is there anything else we can get you? Anything at all?” 

Nick shakes his head. A small smile growing at the corner of his mouth. _ She’s everything I’ll ever need. _

The younger soldier wraps Nick and June in an abrupt, overzealous hug. “Thank you Mr. Blaine, Sir. THANK YOU. God Bless you, Sir.” He salutes one more time before returning to the van. 

The Mayday soldiers pull back onto the highway, disappearing down the road. As the engine noise recedes, Nick and June are swallowed by darkness and silence. But not for long. The nocturnal forest creatures resume their noisy activities, filling the air with chirping and movement. The moonlight bathes everything in a soft, surreal dreamlike glow. 

June extends her hand slowly to touch Nick’s shirt. She stares intently, running her fingertips over his buttons, his shirt pocket, his collar. Entranced. Checking each stitch, each fiber for authenticity. Satisfied by what she finds, she hugs Nick tight, burying her face against his chest. He pulls her impossibly closer, eyes closed, lips pressed to her head, thanking every higher power he can think of. Overwhelmed with emotion. 

They stand like that for a long moment, holding each other in the darkness. Nick’s mind is finally quiet. He feels a peace he hasn’t felt since the last time they were together. Breathing her in, inhaling her familiar scent. _ Lavender. She still smells like Lavender. _Then suddenly June’s lips are on his. Soft and warm and perfect. His hand rises to her face, thumb caressing her cheek gently. When she pulls away, she’s finally smiling. Looking up at him in earnest now. Eyes almost glowing, reflecting the disc of white light illuminating the sky above them. 

“Hi,” she says softly. 

“Hey,” he repeats back with a matching smile. He stares at her for a long moment, like he can’t believe they’re finally together again until he finally clears his throat. “We should get going.”

June nods. “Ok. But I’ve gotta pee. Really bad. Is there a gas station nearby?”

Nick smirks. “Come on.”

June relieves herself behind a tree. 

Nick guides her the five miles through the woods. It’s slow going in the dark. The sky grows rosy with impending dawn as they reach their destination on the shore of a lake. A wood cabin. Small. Overgrown. But she can see that the paths have been cleared, brush cut away to liberate the door and windows from the tangle of vines and bushes around the building, the rest of the cabins surrounding it left to be reclaimed by nature. Nick reaches into his pocket, pulling out a key and unlocking the heavy wooden door. 

“Where are we? What is this place?” June asks. 

Nick turns, eyes smiling. “Home.”

As he opens the door, June’s struck by the warmth. The soft light. She casts her eyes around the space- surprised to see a fire in the hearth.

“How did you find this?”  


Nick doesn’t answer. He didn’t hear her. He’s staring. Drinking her in. Entranced by her every movement. He couldn’t take his eyes off her if he tried. 

When he doesn’t answer her, she turns and raises an eyebrow at him. He clears his throat, looking down and blinking rapidly as his mind finally processes her question. “My family used to come here when I was a kid. We’re on Lake Michigan.”

Nick swallows. “The woods are full of ticks and poison ivy. You should shower.” 

June nods, suddenly feeling the crushing exhaustion of her journey overtake her. She yawns deeply. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks. She shakes her head. 

He nods. “There’s medicine in the bathroom, change of clothes, towels. Let me know if you need anything else.” 

June stares at him for a long moment, already finding it hard to want to be away from him. Finally, she nods. “Okay.” 

Nick’s face softens as he nods. “Okay.” He moves to the bedside, sitting, unlacing and toeing off his boots and pulling clean clothes out of the dresser. 

June’s glad he said something. Her ankles are on fire. Itching and throbbing. When she pulls her boots off, she counts at least 30 bites on each leg. There is even one tick. She pinches it just under the head, pulling it off and tossing it in the toilet. She checks the medicine cabinet, genuinely surprised at how well-stocked the place is. The mirror medicine cabinet is like a CVS. She takes out some Tylenol and Benadryl, placing them in her mouth, cupping her hands to get some water from the sink. She sets out some steroid cream to smear over the rash after her shower. 

The hot water against her aching muscles is unspeakably good. She takes her time. Warming up. Cleaning off. She hasn’t had a proper shower since the Globe. When she finally steps out, toweling her hair dry, she applies the cream to her ankles, which are already visibly less red. 

She pulls on the clean underwear, pants and sweatshirt that are folded, waiting for her. Men’s pants, but her size. Comfortable. She’s reminded again of the Globe. The last time she and Nick were really alone. He’d done so well then too, bringing her everything he could. Making the barren offices into their private campground. It had felt so normal she could have forgotten it was Gilead. 

She steps out of the bathroom, a smile spreading across her face at the scene before her. 

Nick. Deep asleep. 

Curled up on _ his _ side of the bed, hands between his knees. 

June tilts her head, taking him in. She always loved seeing him like this. Observing him with his guard down. More silver hairs around his temples. Deep worry lines in his forehead that weren’t there before. But he looks peaceful. At ease. 

June lays down on _ her _ side of the bed, mirroring him. 

Nick stirs, reaching for her, hand finding her waist as he shifts slightly. June smiles tenderly. Whenever they were together, he’d touch her any chance he got. Even if it was just the edge of their feet touching under the covers, his body always found hers. Her heart glows at that memory. That detail hasn’t changed. She reaches across the space, playing with a wayward lock of his hair. It’s longer than she’d remembered. She lets her fingers trace down his jaw. More salt and pepper in his stubble. 

“_ You _ need a shower?” She whispers.

Nick blinks sleepily, shakes his head, rolling to his back and pulling her close, onto his chest. Wrapping both arms around her back. Breaths deep and even.

June closes her eyes. Listening to the metronome of his heart beneath her cheek and the birds beginning to chirp outside the window. Eyelids impossibly heavy. 

She’s asleep within seconds. 


	2. Nightmares

> _i remember you said don't leave me here alone_  
_but all that's dead and gone and passed tonight_

June sits bolt upright in bed, chest heaving, drenched in sweat. 

Eyes wide with panic, she checks her ankle, finding the sheet twisted tightly around it. She kicks it off frantically, and the nightmarish images finally recede.

_ Lost in a forest._ _Bony hands pulling me into a grave. _

She tries to slow her heart, pulling slow deep breaths through her nose. _ Just a dream. It was just a dream. _

“You ok?” Nick asks, sitting up next to her sleepily, searching her face in the darkness. 

June blinks, turning her head, shocked to see Nick next to her in bed. 

She grabs him, pulling him as close as she can, pressing her face to his chest. Relieved to hear his heartbeat thudding steadily underneath her cheek. 

She keeps her eyes clenched tightly shut as the fear starts rising again. She’s overcome with a new horror. 

_ What if this is just a dream too? _

She shakes her head, banishing the thought. 

_This feels real. Nick’s heartbeat. It sounds right. Feels right. I’ve never dreamed about that. This feels like him. Smells like him._ _My back wouldn’t hurt if this was a dream. My ankles itch so badly. This has to be real._

But the ice in her veins refuses to relent. She grips him tighter. Clinging to him for dear life, refusing to open her eyes.

_ If this is just a dream, please God let me stay. I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to go back. I can’t lose him again. _

Nick is concerned, brows furrowed with worry. “June. Talk to me. What happened?”

June shakes her head, squeezing her eyes tight. When she’s able to form words she whispers “Please be real.” 

Nick smirks affectionately, hugging her closer and kissing her head. “It’s ok.” He lays back down on his side, holding his arm out, open wide for her to join him. 

June looks down at this man, wanting to wrap her in his arms and keep her safe. The very picture of comfort. It’s too tempting to resist. Even if it  _ IS _ just a dream. This is everything she’s wanted for the past year. Just to be somewhere safe with him again. The fear finally abates a little. She lays down too, finally giving in. 

Nick pulls the quilt up over them. He gathers her in a hug, rubbing her arm reassuringly. The same hypnotic, soothing motion that always helped her fall asleep in his apartment. June can’t help it, she feels herself relaxing in his arms. Her body still trusts him.

Nick kisses her head again, snuggling her closer. “Try to get some rest.”

* * *

June wakes up hours later to pale morning light filtering in through the window above the bed with the welcome weight of Nick’s arm across her torso. She blinks as she rolls over to lay on her back and Nick’s arm moves with her, even though he doesn’t wake, the movement instinctual. She stares at the ceiling, watching as the flecks of dust in the air reflect the morning light, making everything feel hazy and dreamlike. 

Suddenly, the terror from the night before grips her again.

_ It’s a dream. All of this. _

She closes her eyes, trying to center herself, but it makes it worse. The darkness pulls her deeper into her fear, her mind conjuring up the images of the nightmare she’d had. 

_ Blackness. Pulling. Hands. Nick had been there. She’d reached for him, but his hand had turned to dust as she tried to grab it and break free of the demons that tried to pull her away from him. His image growing fainter and fainter until _ _ — _

Her eyes snap back open.

The flecks of dust still dance in the air. Nick’s arm is still on her. The bed is the same as the one she’d gone to sleep in, the plaid quilt warm and heavy on top of her and Nick. 

Her heart races in her chest. It still isn’t convinced.

She takes deep breaths as she tries to calm herself, remembering how she’d worked through Hannah’s fear of monsters in her closet with her. Together, they’d placed a tiny unicorn sticker on the inside of her closet door. If Hannah was ever scared, all she’d have to do to know she wasn’t dreaming and the monsters weren’t coming for her was to get up and check for the unicorn. If the sticker was there, she’d know she was awake and she was safe.

It worked. 

June bites her lip as she rolls to her side to face Nick, still sleeping peacefully next to her, his breaths slow and even. There’s no unicorn sticker here, but there has to be something else. Something she can use to convince herself that this is real and she’s not about to wake up in her tiny bed alone back at the Lawrence’s.

_ “How’d you get this?” _

_ June’s finger traces along the jagged edge of a white scar right under Nick’s armpit as she rests her chin on his bare chest. She feels his chuckle more than she can hear it, and she smiles as she turns her head to look at his face, laying her cheek against his warm skin, pressing her hand over the scar. _

_ “My brother,” he answers, his voice rough like gravel, just like it always is after he first wakes up. _

_ “What’d he do?” _

_ This has become a game they play every time he visits her here at the Globe. Early in the morning or late at night, once they’ve tired of watching the DVDs she’s found, they talk. Sometimes it’s about what’s going on back at the Waterfords’ in her absence, sometimes it’s about their favorite sports teams, but it’s always comfortable. Easy. _

_ Normal. _

_ It makes everything about their situation feel completely normal, like they’re just a regular couple on a lazy Sunday morning, lounging together in bed. It’s almost enough to make her forget she’s stuck here in an old office building awaiting escape from an oppressive government that wants to steal their baby. Almost. _

_ Nick clears his throat as he reaches down and brushes her hair off her cheek and behind her ear. “We were playing football in our yard with some of the neighborhood kids and my team was winning. I was a fast runner, so I kept getting all these touchdowns and it pissed Josh off.” He pauses momentarily, smiling wistfully as he recalls the situation. _

_ “He hated losing,” Nick clarifies. “It was supposed to be touch football, but he got so angry that once when I had the ball he shoved me into some bushes and a branch got my side.” _

_ June smiles as she looks back at the rough edges of the scar, faded with time but still visible and tangible. _

_ “How old were you?” _

_ Nick shrugs. “Seven or eight.” _

_ “Did it need stitches?” _

_ Nick chuckles again. “No, but it was close. He got lucky. I think our parents would have killed him. Ripped a giant hole in my favorite Lions shirt, though.” _

_ June laughs as she pushes herself up so she’s sitting, turning herself so she’s facing him. “You’re making me glad I was an only child,” she teases. _

_ Nick stills as he purses his lips together. “No, it was…” he trails off, getting lost in his own thoughts and memories of the time he had with his brother. June’s quiet as she watches him. He doesn’t speak about his brother much, but when he does it always comes from a place of love. He loved his brother very much and her heart breaks for him at that loss. She reaches down and tangles her fingers with his, pulling his hand up onto her lap, the touch drawing him out of his mind. He shakes his head slightly and exhales sharply through his nose. “It was nice to have someone to look up to, you know? Someone that I could count on.” _

_ June nods as she looks down at their hands intertwined together on her lap, squeezing his hand gently before her eyes wander up to his shoulder, where she notices another small pockmark scar on his shoulder, near his collar bone. _

_ “What about this one?” She asks, leaning forward to touch it with the index finger of her free hand. _

_ “Chickenpox,” he answers easily. “Not as exciting.” _

_ “I have one of those too,” June replies, reaching up and touching her face, running her finger next to her eye, feeling for the small crescent-shaped pockmark right under her eyebrow as Nick lifts his head, curious to get a better look. _

_ “Right here,” she says, putting her finger on her face right under the scar as Nick finally sits all the way up beside her, his eyes narrowed as he studies her face. “Not scratching was easier said than done, I guess,” she jokes as Nick reaches up and brushes his thumb over the scar, her breath hitching in her chest as his hand cups her face. Her eyes meet his, the air electric between them. The moment switches gears as she closes the gap between them, leaning in to kiss him gently, the discussion forgotten. _

June flips over slowly, holding her breath as she watches Nick’s face, making sure he stays asleep. She stays still for a long moment, resting on her stomach next to him.

Once she’s sure she hasn’t woken him up, she pulls the quilt down to his waist, pushing up the hem of his olive green shirt, exposing the soft tan skin of his torso. She quickly glances up at his face as his exposed skin meets the cool fall air and when she’s satisfied the change in temperature hasn’t woken him up, she continues her search, pushing the shirt up even further, scowling as the position of his arm makes it difficult to get a look under his arm for his scar, which she doesn’t see.

She feels her heart quicken in her chest at its absence, but before she has time to panic she snakes her hand up his side, biting her lip in concentration as she runs her fingers along his soft skin, holding her breath as she waits to feel familiar jagged edges of the scar. She feels her blood turn to ice after the third pass of her fingers along his skin when she doesn’t feel it. Her eyes close as her breath catches in her chest.

_ It’s not real. Please, let me wake up soon. I can’t get too comfortable here, I won’t be able to bear it when I wake up and _ _ — _

“Hey.”

Her eyes open to the sound of Nick’s rough voice and she looks up at him, his eyes curious even behind drowsy eyelids, his dark curls messy from sleep. And then he yawns and she feels his muscles stretch underneath her as he wakes and her stomach sinks. She takes it back. If this is a dream, she never wants to wake up. 

“Where’s your scar?” She asks suddenly and his eyebrows furrow together in confusion. He shakes his head slightly, not understanding. “The one your brother gave you. When you were playing football.”

She can tell he’s lost, he has no idea why she’s asking about this now, but to his credit he doesn’t ask any questions. He just answers her, following her lead.

“It’s on the other side,” he says, motioning with his head to his right side. 

Desperately, June pushes his shirt up even further as she pulls herself across his body as Nick lifts his arm, now awake and able to provide her the access she needs to see for herself. And there, just like it had been before, is his football scar. She sighs in relief as she puts her hand over top of it, needing to feel it too, as she drops her forehead onto his stomach, her breaths shallow as she feels herself start to calm back down.

It’s real. _ He’s _ real. 

She feels his other arm come down on her back, rubbing it gently, waiting patiently for her to gather herself. She takes a few moments, letting herself get lost in the comfort of his touch and the warmth of his skin before she finally pushes herself up so she’s sitting next to him, her legs folded under her. Nick follows suit, pushing himself up so he’s sitting leaning against the old wooden headboard. He holds the arm closest to June out to her, an invitation, and she gladly takes it, moving up the bed and pressing herself against his side, closing her eyes as his arm comes to rest around her as he gently drops a kiss on top of her head. She pulls him close, reveling in how warm and solid he is against her, how he faintly smells of smoke. How _ real _ he is.

“You okay?” He finally asks after a long moment and she nods her head against him, opening her eyes and tilting her head back to look at him, a slight smile on his face. 

“Yeah, I just….” she trails off, suddenly realizing how insane what she had been doing is going to sound. She shakes her head as she continues, “I just wanted to make sure you were real and that you were really you.”

She feels his chest shake as he chuckles once she feels herself start to smile as his grows even wider. Everything is so easy with him. 

“Well, did I pass the test? Am I me?” He asks playfully as she lifts her head to look at him. She nods in response and he nods back at her, his expression growing serious as he stares at her. 

She swallows hard as he reaches out and brushes her hair off her cheek, the pad of his thumb coming to find the crescent-shaped scar near her eye. Her eyes flutter closed as he brushes over it gently, the rest of his hand cupping her face as her eyes open, meeting his again as he stares at her in the way that makes her heart skip a beat. The way that makes her feel like she’s the only thing that exists in his universe.

“I’m glad you’re real too,” he murmurs as he continues to hold her gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile again. “Are you hungry?”

She shakes her head as she wraps her arm his torso, burrowing against him, listening to the steady drumbeat of his heart as she rests her head back against his chest. She doesn’t want to leave him now for anything.

“I don’t want to get up yet.”


	3. Reconnection

_Just close your eyes. The sun is going down. _

_You'll be alright. No one can hurt you now. _

June wakes up, blinking sleepily. There’s no light from the window. It’s dark outside. She stretches deeply, finally feeling rested. 

Nick’s body is still wrapped around hers protectively, his chest rising and falling steadily against her back. He’s holding her hand, fingers tangled loosely with hers, arm draped over her waist. _We still fit together perfectly. _June smiles, closing her eyes and basking in the moment. Heat radiates off him, maintaining his perfect steady temperature. _The warmth is just like I remembered. My personal space heater. My Nick shaped electric blanket. No plug in required. _Her toes are the only part of her body out in the cold, so she pulls her feet under the covers, pressing the icy digits against his toasty shins. _Mmmmm. That’s better. _

Nick shifts, pulling her closer, cheek pressed to her back. June can’t stop smiling. She could stay like this forever. Not sure if he’s really awake yet, she tests the waters, whispering softly. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he murmurs back. His deep scratchy morning voice just as sexy as she remembered.

“How long have we been asleep?”

He shifts again, stretching deeply. “All day.”

“You didn’t wake me up?”

She can feel him smiling. “You looked too peaceful.” He murmurs as he kisses her shoulder blade. “Too beautiful.”

June rolls her eyes, blushing. The flirting. Still so terrible. She’d missed it. 

His hand roams absently over her curves. Tracing the rise of her hip and the dip of her waist. His touch is featherlight. Tentative. Reverent. 

Then Nick swallows and shifts slightly, and something changes. It’s subtle. An energy shift. She’s not sure if it’s her, or him or both of them. But something’s different.

A knot twists low in her belly. Heavy and aching. June feels something awakening. Something she’d buried. A need so deep and painful she’d repressed it completely during their separation. She hadn’t even touched herself since they’d been apart. Sex was the furthest thing from her mind. But now as his familiar touch awakens her desire, she remembers everything. 

He’s remembering too. What they used to do when they were alone together. She can tell from his shallow breathing and the heat from his hands. He wants to touch her like he used to. He’s asking for permission. Asking if it’s still ok. Asking if she still wants him. 

“Feels good.” She murmurs in response to his silent question. 

His fingers stray to the edge of her shirt, pausing at the border between her clothing and her skin. Voice soft and trance-like. “I missed you so much.”

“Nick…” She gasps, frightened at how hard her heart is pounding. 

He continues, words barely audible. “I thought about you every day.”

“I missed you so much.” She whispers.

Nick swallows thickly, heart pounding hard against her back. 

"I want you..." He finally whispers, like the words are being pulled from him. 

“I want you too.” She whispers, reaching back to caress his thigh. Relieved to feel Nick slipping his palm under her shirt and up her side, his touch bolder now, familiar, like it used to be. He nuzzles her neck as he palms her breast, squeezing sensuously. Her nipples are achingly hard before he even touches them, but when he finally does, taking one between his fingertips, tugging, pinching and rolling gently, it’s exquisite. Setting every part of her on fire.

His hand leaves her breast, sliding down to the closure of her pants. June moves her leg, making space for his hand to move, aching for his touch there. He unbuttons and unzips quickly before reaching inside, under the thick fabric, but over her underwear, fingertips ghosting softly over her cleft. Nick is breathing fast against her back. June can’t breathe at all. It’s like her chest is in a vice. Like there isn’t enough air. His fingers are still so good. 

June arches, pressing her ass into Nick’s lap and she can feel him- fully hard for her. His hips instantly press forward in response, making the ache so much worse for both of them. This instinctual back and forth continues as she grows damp under his expert touches. So wet that the cotton of her underwear starts gliding over the silken fluid beneath.

Sensing this change, feeling that she’s ready, Nick pushes under her panties, caressing her slick folds directly, nothing between them now. He groans as his hips arch into her harder when he feels how wet she is. How much she wants him. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, fingertips somehow remaining gentle despite his growing frenzy. 

Nick slowly slides a fingertip over her swollen clit and June moans loudly, hips bucking forward. The pleasure already so intense that direct pressure there is almost unbearable. She presses her trembling thighs together around his hand, panting. So close. So close already. 

Nick groans, painfully turned on by her reaction to this tiny touch. Wanting to give her so much more. Kissing her neck hungrily, he rests the heel of his hand on her mound, long fingers kneading her outer lips while his middle finger applies steady rocking pressure over her clit. 

June cries out, hips moving forward rhythmically, rocking into his hand greedily as he pleasures her in earnest. His right hand moves with her, his left snakes under her, anchoring her hips against him.

He’s moving too, hips rolling, pulsing as he coaxes her closer to the edge. Stifled moans the only sign of his urgent longing. He nibbles her earlobe, nuzzling closer to her. Breath hot on her neck. He kisses her cheek softly, whispering her name. Urging her to let go. 

June’s thighs clamp together around his hand as he pushes her pleasure to the point of breaking, her body arching as tight as a strung bow.

Nick slips a finger inside her, then two, pumping them deep in a torturous preview. His eyes are clenched shut, mouth open, breaths rough and desperate against her back. 

June’s nails dig into his arm. She’s coming hard, clamping around his fingers. Mouth open. Brows clenched. Silent. Outside herself. Blank. Blissful. Wet. So wet. Everything is slick. His hand, her thighs, her underwear is soaked. 

Nick loosens his grip on her, kissing her cheek, easing her through her climax. 

The orgasm only makes it worse. She needs him inside her, his cock buried as far as it can go. She needs him to take her. Fuck her. Use her body to please himself. Do unspeakable things to her. Anything. Everything.

“Nick. Please,” she begs, reaching back, suddenly aware of the four layers of thick fabric between them. She squeezes his thigh, gripping the fabric and pulling him clumsily toward her. “I need you,” she babbles on repeat, begging and pulling with new urgency. 

Her plea breaks something in him. He needs her too, needs to be inside her more than he needs to breathe. His manners. His restraint. They’re gone. He’s so far past his own breaking point that nothing can stop it now. 

Nick shoves her pants and underwear down urgently with both hands, pushing them the rest of the way off with his feet. His are next. Urgently unbuckled, unzipped and kicked off in seconds, joining hers at the foot of the bed, in a pile under the covers. 

She feels his cock. Warm and smooth and perfect against her. Rock hard. She hears a foil package being ripped and realizes he’s putting a condom on. 

“Don’t,” she blurts out.

Nick freezes, heaving rapid shaky breaths. “You sure?”

She breathes quickly, nodding her head. “Take it off.”

Nick throws the condom on the floor. 

His hand finds hers, interlacing their fingers, breaths tight and shallow. 

He pushes inside her urgently, sheathing himself in her heat. They both cry out, hands clenched together tightly. 

His forehead is pressed to her back until he regains control of himself. 

“I missed you.” He breathes.

June nods. “I missed you too.” 

Nick opens his eyes, looking down at where their bodies are joined, he gently caresses her ass and low back, overwhelmed with lust. 

Nick pumps his hips into her slowly. His cock is huge. Filling her completely and splitting her in two. June moans- arching her head back to him. 

Withdrawing his hips slowly, he returns hard to the hilt. They moan again, gripping each other tight, bodies writhing in this perfect rhythm. Slippery with sweat and her desire. 

Nick’s breaths grow shallow and tight again. He grips her hip hard, biting his lip. Desperate. Needing more. Needing to see her, kiss her. Taste her. It’s unbearable. He stops fighting it and lets it take him over, rolling June to her back, he urgently shoves her flat on the bed. She watches him with smiling, dilated, needy eyes. She lets him move her and position her body any way he sees fit. She opens her knees wide for him, submitting to him completely.

He climbs between her legs, pushing back inside. Rising over her rhythmically now, his pace urgent. Holding her chin with his thumb, he kisses her greedily.

“I love you,” he breaks the kiss to whisper. “So much.”

June murmurs too as he fucks her. Lips against his ear. Telling him how much she loves him, how good he feels, how much she missed him. Every confession wrenches pained moans from Nick. 

He hikes a knee up, deepening his thrusts. 

June’s eyes clench shut, head arching back, mouth open in surrender. It’s too much. Overwhelming.

Nick kisses her open mouth, her lower lip, her chin, her cheek, unable to stop. 

He winces as his climax becomes inevitable, eyes closing tightly, concentrating to stave it off a little longer.

June whimpers when his lips leave hers, opening her dazed eyes. She pulls him back in for another hard kiss. 

She moves her hands to his ass, pressing her hips harder against his. Squeezing the firm muscle, pulling him deeper, urging him to fuck her harder. Not hold back. To give her everything.

Nick moans brokenly, his control crumbling, fighting to keep it together long enough to take care of her first.

He lays forward, guiding her knees over his shoulders. Moving her to one of her favorite positions. 

Nick thrusts hard and fast, hips snapping into hers. Face flushed from his exertions, brows clenched, he lets go, giving her everything. His lips against hers as they fall apart. Breathing, kissing, crying for each other as their climax surrounds them. His hips slow to a gentle pulse as they come down.

June rolls Nick to his back, keeping him inside her. Making it clear she isn’t done with him. 

She rides him, gripping his shoulders for balance. Smiling when she finds the friction she needs with him still inside her. Nick’s hands find her hips. He watches her chase her pleasure, eyes dazed and low. High. Drunk. So in love with her. 

It’s good for him too. He bites his lip, guiding her on him, pulling her faster, feeling a gentle pressure build in his pelvis, reigniting his desire for her. 

He pulls her down into a desperate kiss. 

The angle rubs her oversensitive clit and she cries out loudly.

Nick locks her there in that position, holding her in a tight embrace, his grip firm. Kissing her feverishly. Wanting it to be perfect for her. Wanting her to come over and over forever. 

June doesn’t fight it. She gives herself to him. Letting him move her. The position pins her sensitive nipples tight against his chest. He’s kissing her furiously and all she can do is cry out as he rocks her hips deeper against his own, thrusting into her. It doesn’t take long- she comes again. Hard. Loud.

The intensity is too much this time, unleashing something else entirely. 

June drops her head to Nick’s shoulder, crying hysterically. Her whole body trembling with sobs. 

Nick sits up, concerned. Holding her. “What’s wrong? You ok?”

She clings to him, shaking her head. Too frightened by what’s in her head to breathe it to life. 

Finally, she whispers. “Please don't go. You can’t go. Please don’t leave me.” 

The words break her and she crumbles back into hysterics, sobbing helplessly in his arms. She repeats her plea over and over. Begging him not to go. Finally voicing the fear she’d silenced their last night together in his apartment. The fear behind every one of her letters. This repressed agony finally pours out of her, like a lanced wound draining the poison that had festered under the surface.

Nick blinks as tears burn his eyes too. He brushes the hair away from her red, tear-stained face. Holding her, rocking her as it all floods out. Kissing her softly. Whispering reassurances. 

“It’s ok. I’m here. I’m never leaving you again.”


	4. Scars

> _i remember tears streaming down your face_   
_when i said i'll never let you go_   
_when all those shadows almost killed your light_

_ Something’s wrong. _

June’s sure of it now. The signs were subtle at first, so she ignored the sense of worry that nagged at her. She knew Nick was exhausted, physically and emotionally, from surviving the war. She was able to chalk it up to that at first and figured he’d come around with time.

But as days turned into weeks and the honeymoon frenzy finally starts to calm, she finds herself studying him more closely. He’s distant. Distracted. Quieter than normal. And now it’s reached a point where she can’t ignore it any longer. 

They’re lying in bed, facing each other. June lifts her hand and traces the deep wrinkle between his eyebrows. _ He’s carrying something heavy. Something painful. _ June sees it now, written all over his face. His eyes are unfocused, fixed on something in his mind. _ He’s in his head. Something’s eating away at him. _

“Wanna talk about it?” She asks gently. 

Nick’s eyes flick to hers, searching briefly. Eventually glazing over again.

June props herself up on an elbow, softly cupping his cheek, brushing his skin with her thumb reassuringly. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, leaning into her touch. He finds her gaze and holds it, finally back with her.

She intentionally softens her face with a smile, trying a different angle. “I know what happened last year from your letters. You don't have to start from the beginning. Just at the end. How’d you get out?”

Nick blinks rapidly, abruptly sitting up, throwing back the blanket, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He’s facing away from her, gripping the mattress tightly, staring holes through the floor. His voice is thick when he finally speaks. “There's... something I have to tell you.” 

June waits, listening intently. She knows this tone. This behavior. This is how he sounded after meeting Luke. Like he’s delivering his own death sentence. _ What did he see in Chicago? What did he do there? What other horrors has Gilead inflicted on him? _She exhales sharply as she tries to shut her mind off, waiting to hear from him. It takes several minutes to get the words out and when he finally does they’re thick. Difficult. 

“I was in the Sons of Jacob.” 

June blinks, waiting for more, but Nick says nothing else, letting his words hang heavy in the space between them. 

Her body reacts viscerally, blood running cold, stomach twisting with nausea. She recoils from him, pulling her hand away and stiffening up. And then it hits her as her brain catches up with her instincts and she finally processes his statement. Sons of Jacob. She knows that name. She sees it in her mind, plastered all over the wall at the Boston Globe. 

_ Sons of Jacob. The terrorists who slaughtered Congress. The men who founded Gilead. What the fuck do you mean you were one of them? _

She looks up to see Nick’s sad gaze locked on hers. Clearly seeing the reaction he expected. 

June swallows, shaking her head. Confused. Angry. Hurt. Needing more information._ There has to be an explanation. _She _knows_ there’s an explanation, but her anger still bubbles to the surface before compassion. “What the fuck do you mean you were one of them? Why?”

“I had nothing. I needed money to help my family get by. They told me we’d help people. By the time I saw what it was, I couldn't leave.” 

Her eyebrows cinch together. She blows out a slow breath. Trying to fight the tsunami of rage rising in her heart. Unable to keep the bite out of her tone. “...the fuck do you mean you couldn’t leave?”

“I tried.” He mutters softly, but with that, he shakes his head and stops talking. Staring a hole through the floor once again.

She doesn’t know what to say so she presses her lips together. Closing her eyes, pulling in breath after breath. Trying to calm herself and steady her shaking hands. Trying for once to not lash out in anger, although it’s her first instinct. It would feel good. He’d fucking deserve it, she’d be well within her right. 

But she sees him, jaw clenched hard, eyes brimming with tears, and she knows he’s hurting too. The wrong words, spoken in anger, would destroy what they’ve kept alive through so much. Her heart softens as she sees that he’s punishing himself more harshly than she ever could. 

“Hey… talk to me,” June says gently, hoping to encourage him to press on. “Make me understand.” She begs, putting her hand on his shoulder. 

But it’s too late. Nick says nothing, drawing further into himself, clenching his eyes shut. She takes his hand in hers, but he doesn’t react. 

She stands and rifles through her small bag. She was going to save this for later, not sure what was inside or how he’d react to it. But she needs to get him out of his head and it’s the only thing she can think of. She stands next to him, holds out the brown wax paper package. “I have something for you.” 

Nick glances over absently, wrinkle between his eyebrows growing deeper, eyes moving to June’s. Questioning. Curious. 

“Rita found this. It almost got thrown away.” 

Nick takes the package and unfolds the paper, taking out his lost picture of him and Joshua. 

His jaw clenches as his eyes squeeze shut, sending a single tear down his cheek. His forehead drops to his hands. He trembles, the silence punctuated by agonized whimpers. He heaves shaky breaths as sobs wrack through him. The sounds are awful to hear. 

June knew from his letters that he was hurting, that he was lonely, but she had no idea his regret ran this deep. Seeing the strongest person she knows bent with grief makes her heart ache for him. She understands now that she’s the only family he has left. She sees that he blames himself for Gilead and therefore her pain. That he thinks he’s responsible for the suffering of the only person left in the world that he loves. 

Her anger vanishes. She’s overwhelmed with compassion. She sits back down on the bed and wraps her arms around him, pulling him close, rocking him, rubbing his back like a child. Like she used to do with Hannah after they had an argument. She used to tell Hannah she’d always love her, no matter what. No matter what Hannah had done, she was always her baby and she would always love her. And with that same mantra in her heart, she rubs Nick’s back, murmuring reassurances. She holds him until the shaking stops and there’s nothing left but a steady stream of tears down his cheeks. 

June urges him to lay down, lying behind him, pulling the covers up over them, spooning him with her arms wrapped around him. Pulling his back tight into her chest. She intertwines their fingers and moves their hands over his heart.

After a while, Nick’s breathing finally slows down, becoming deep and even. June smiles- recognizing that he’s fallen asleep. She fights the urge to hug him tighter, not wanting to wake him, knowing that he desperately needs the rest. She turns her face to drop one soft kiss between his shoulder blades before falling asleep herself, cheek pressed to his back. 

* * *

Nick wakes up first the next morning and immediately, he’s uneasy.

He’s never awake first. And not only is he the first one awake, but June is rolled over on her side, sleeping soundly facing away from him. It’s the first time he can remember her sleeping anyway but curled next to him. 

He exhales sharply as he rubs his face with his hands before pushing himself up to a sitting position. His mind races as he considers all the possibilities now that June knows the truth about his past, and he finds himself landing on the same conclusions every time: that she won’t want anything to do with him anymore, that she’ll want to leave, and never see him again. 

So he starts planning for that in his mind. They’re not in Canada, but they’re not in Gilead either. He’d wanted to wait until more of the winter had passed to try to move them into Canada when the weather would be more accommodating. But if she doesn’t want to stay with him anymore, he’ll move her whenever she wants.

Because no matter what she thinks of him, he still needs her to be safe. He wants her to be with Holly. He still loves her. And so he’ll do this one last thing for her, he’ll make sure she gets to Canada, and then disappear. She’ll never have to see him again.

He rises out of bed to give her space and pads into the kitchenette when he stops short in front of the refrigerator. 

When he arrived, he’d taken the pictures of Holly that June had sent him and hung them on the fridge, along with one of her letters. It wasn’t much, but it made the space feel like home. It’d remind him every morning while he was gathering supplies and making preparations exactly what he was fighting for. 

But now there’s a new addition. 

His picture with Josh, tucked under the same magnet with one of Holly’s pictures. 

His legs nearly buckle as the force of seeing his past with his present and future all in the same space hits him squarely in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. The normalcy of family pictures, _ his _ family, hung on the fridge not something he’d been prepared to handle. All the people he loves most in the world in one place, together. Like they were always meant to be that way. Two halves of his heart forming a whole, right in front of him. 

And then it dawns on him who must have added the picture last night after he’d fallen asleep and his stomach drops to his feet. 

“You like it?”

Nick spins around on his heel, startled by June’s voice behind him. She’s sitting up in bed, the quilt pulled up over her lap, a soft smile on her face, illuminated by the morning light spilling in from the window to the right of the bed. 

Nick exhales shakily as he stares at her, golden in the sunlight. He nods. It’s all he can do, anything else would be too much. He doesn’t know how he’ll live without her presence. 

She pats the empty space on the bed next to her. 

“Come here.”

Nick swallows hard as his feet carry him back to bed like he’s on autopilot. He sits down on the edge of the bed and looks down at his feet, not ready for whatever June’s going to say, already prepared for the worst. 

He feels the bed dip and shift behind him as June scoots over to be closer to him, every cell in his body attuned to her. She folds her legs underneath her as she finally settles next to him, waiting patiently until Nick finally steels himself and raises his head and gazes at her. 

She reaches over and takes one of his hands off his lap, intertwining her fingers with his, using her free hand to trace lines over the soft skin on the back of his hand as she gathers her thoughts too, the air heavy between them with all the words they both need to say, like it’d been that night above the Waterford’s garage before he’d been deployed. A lifetime ago.

“Luke was married when we got together,” June starts suddenly as she stops fidgeting and looks directly up at Nick. “I broke up a marriage. That’s why I was a Handmaid.”

Nick swallows hard as his head shakes slightly, not understanding.

“I tore dozens of men apart at Salvagings. I stoned them to death. I helped hang men and women. Most of them were probably good people.”

Nick shakes his head even harder, this time with purpose. None of what happened in Gilead was her fault. He finally finds his voice. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“I had a choice. We always have a choice.” Her voice rings with a clarity and conviction he’s never heard before. He swallows hard. “It doesn’t mean I made the right ones. I know I haven’t. I’ve lied. I cheated. I helped kill people. That’s blood that will always be on my hands.”

  
She stops to take a deep breath, gathering herself, as she worries her bottom lip with her teeth as she considers what she’s going to say next. Her eyes closing briefly before she finally continues. “Nick, I even asked you to do something terrible. I _ told _ you to do it. I made that choice. And now I have to live with it and every other bad decision I’ve made.”

His jaw clenches as he looks back down at their still intertwined hands. He remembers that awful afternoon in the Waterford’s sitting room, feeling helpless, like a man drowning at sea, doing everything he could to keep his head above water as their conversation spiraled further and further out of his control. Nothing had gone the way he’d wanted or planned, including his desperate call that he loved her. He’d imagined many different ways he’d eventually tell her, none of them the way it actually happened. Just another thing Gilead had taken from him. 

June pulls him out of his thoughts. 

“I will never forgive myself for any of it. I can’t.” 

His eyes move up to meet hers again, now wet with tears. 

“Can you forgive me?”

“Of course,” Nick replies immediately, not needing a second to consider. June smiles as tears track down her cheeks, he’d given her exactly the answer she knew he would. She lets go of his hand and brings both of hers up to cup his face, making sure he’s looking right at her before she continues, needing him to feel her words as much as he hears them.

“Good,” she whispers, rubbing her thumb on his cheek before she continues. “Because I forgive you even if you can’t forgive yourself.”

Nick’s breath catches in his chest as the world stops spinning around him.

_ She forgives me._

He’d never even allowed himself to consider that possibility, that maybe she’d understand. That she’d listen to him. It’s why he’d held that secret as close to his chest as he could. A burden for him to bear on his own until the weight of it nearly broke him. As he exhales shakily, he feels something break inside him. A dam finally opening up after years, the floodwaters ready to spill out. 

He looks down at his hands as June’s drop away from his face and the words just start pouring out of him, almost faster than he can form them in his mind. He tells her about Josh. He tells her about his drinking and the Sons of Jacob and how they’d promised they’d help. They’d seemed so innocuous at first. A little out there, but they’d lured him in with promises that they were going to make the world better, that they were there to inspire hope and change. Promises that they’d help him too.

And they did. They provided him with a steady job. He could afford groceries every week. They helped him get Josh in rehab. He’d gotten better. Almost. They’d canceled his program right before the Congress massacre. He hadn’t known they were responsible for that until later. After they canceled Josh’s program he started putting it together. That they didn’t actually give a shit about helping people or making things better. He tried to leave, but it was too late. He knew too much, or so they told him. They threatened his life and Josh’s, so he stayed. But it didn’t matter anyway. Josh died a week later, he found him in the bathroom. After that, he didn’t care anymore. They offered him the job in Boston working for Fred. He took it. He didn’t have anyone to live for anymore and he had to get out of Michigan. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he sees the teardrop hit the back of June’s hand and he stops talking, all the words out of him now. Everything he’d kept bottled up inside him for so long out in the open. Slowly he raises his head to look at June. Still as a statue, tears welled up in her eyes, one hand over her mouth.

“And then I met you,” he whispers hoarsely, which earns him a throaty laugh from June as she wipes her index fingers under her eyes before she reaches out and pulls him in for a tight hug, her arms wrapping around him and squeezing him tight. She feels like home. Something he hasn’t had in a very long time. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as she runs her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he says, more for her than himself. He rubs his hand on her back, sniffling as he nuzzles his head into her neck.

“It’s not,” June says back, pulling away so she can look at him. “None of this is okay. It’s so fucked up.”

Nick nods, gathering himself as he releases one last shaky exhale. “I’m ok if you’re ok.”

June puts her hands on his face again and pulls him back in and kisses him. Their tears mingling on their lips. She laughs when she sees his face wet with tears, actually leaving paths through the dirt on his cheek. 

The laughter relieves some of the tension, bringing her back from the exhausting emotions they’d just opened up. She realizes Nick hasn’t taken a proper shower since they’d gotten to the cabin. She’d suggested shower sex several times but he kept turning her down. He’d change into fresh clothes every morning and splash his face with water, but that was the extent of it. He kept saying he wanted her to have enough hot water. But he never ended up showering himself. It was time for him to get out of caretaker mode and back to normal.

“We should get showers.” She says, wiping under his eye with the pad of her thumb and showing him the wet dirt on her finger. “_ You _ should get a shower,” she amends her statement with a playful tone.

Nick smiles. The big gorgeous smile. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it. He wipes his face with both hands, looking at it too. “Do I stink?” 

“No.” She says with an affectionate smile and shake of her head. “It’s just been a couple of days.”

Nick scoffs, looking over at her. “In Chicago we only showered once a week.” He shrugs. “Guess I got used to it.” 

She wrinkles her nose. “So I guess Chicago smells like a boy’s locker room now?” She asks, trying to make light of the situation, and keep up the playful banter. 

Nick smirks. Point taken. “Fine. The generator only makes enough hot water for ten minutes, though. I’ll make it quick.”

He stands and strips his shirt off. 

June’s smile falls away, her eyes racing over his body. His ribs and spine are way too visible, like a starved dog. He used to be muscular and soft. Now he looks gaunt and malnourished.

She’s even more concerned by a long jagged scar cutting diagonally from his left shoulder blade, across his back, around to his right flank. Multiple smaller scars are scattered lower on his back.

Nick turns around, his smile falling away as he takes in the worry on her face. “What?” 

June tries to relax her furrowed eyebrows, softening her concern into a joke. “Didn’t they feed you out there?” 

Nick searches her face, realizing what she’s seeing. He sighs, nodding. He clears his throat and shakes his head. “Food sucked, I told you.” He sits to pull his socks off, the bones of his spine even more prominent as he bends over. She feels like she’s going to vomit.

June stands, walking around the bed and taking his arm in her hand, turning his hand over to inspect aging bruises, burn scars. More concerned the closer she looks. Realizing why he’d never changed in front of her. Why he’d been sleeping with his clothes on when he never used to. Why he hasn’t wanted to shower. He didn’t want her to see his scars and worry about him. 

She chastises herself silently. She’d been worried about his mental health. Somehow she hadn’t thought he was in _ physical _ danger. He kept saying he wasn’t in the battles and that she didn’t need to worry. _ But you did get hurt, and you’re clearly malnourished. God this is why you never eat ‘til I’m done. We have plenty but you’re still restricting yourself. What the fuck did they do to you out there, Nick? _

Her heart nearly stops. Her eyes dart to a large ugly scar over his right shoulder. Circular. The size of a tennis ball. Thick and pink. She traces it with her fingers, touching it to see if it’s real. That definitely wasn’t there before. It’s not linear like the others. She looks up at his eyes. Her throat tightening, trying to hold down the tears that threaten to push to the surface.

Nick shakes his head, dismissing the query before she can even ask. “I’m fine.” 

June shakes her head adamantly, refusing to let him off the hook that easy. Not this time, not anymore.

Nick pauses before speaking. “I did what I had to. To get out of there. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it."

“Did you see a doctor?” 

Nick’s mouth opens then closes it. Swallowing thickly as he tries to find the right words. “There are no doctors there. They send people there to die.”

June blinks back tears, trying to stay strong. Knowing how hard it is for Nick to talk about his past.

Nick looks at the floor again, speaking into the space she held open for him. His voice no more than a whisper.

“When you die out there, they replace you. You’re nothing. You don’t matter.”

She loses the battle with her tears and leans in, hugging him tight. Breathing slowly until she can steady her voice enough to whisper. “You fucking matter to me.”

She pulls back, wiping her tears with the heel of her hand. She puts her fingertips on his flank scar, glaring up at him. Demanding he explain this new mark on his body. A call back to their game at the Boston Globe. 

Nick sighs, seeing that she won’t take no for an answer. “I got stabbed.” 

June’s eyes widen with shock. 

“When I was leaving one of them fought back. He had a knife.”

A tear rolls down June’s cheek and she nods, thanking him. Her fingers move up to his shoulder, to the thick circular scar. She looks at his eyes again. 

“Shot.” He says. “That one had a gun.”

Her lip quivers as her fingers trace across his pectoral muscle before she lays her palm flat on his chest to feel his steady heartbeat. Her eyes dart over to the scar, only inches from his heart. A bullet inches from taking his life. Inches from taking him away from her, forever. She can’t imagine it. She refuses. 

She hugs him, clenching her eyes shut. Saying nothing. Holding him for dear life. 

Vowing to never let him go again. 


	5. Cabin Fever

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

It’s supply day.

As soon as the sun rose, Nick would be leaving to meet his Mayday contacts. They’d be dropping off more food and fuel on the side of the abandoned highway, at the same spot June was delivered to him weeks ago. 

Since they arrived at the cabin, he’d only left her twice. Nick had been meticulous with his planning and rationing, and they’d had plenty to last them in between pick-ups. 

June hates supply days. They shatter her illusion that they’re self-sufficient and could stay here forever, just the two of them. Her anxiety spikes when Nick leaves and nothing calms it until he returns. He leaves in the morning and usually doesn’t return until after dark. It triggers memories of their separation, a time she’d rather forget entirely. She’s left to worry all day, her brain imagining every worst-case scenario. 

Things had pretty much returned to normal after their heart to heart. The air was clear between them and together they were able to start the work of healing. Mentally and physically. It would be a long road, but the last of their barriers were finally gone. 

But June hadn’t slept at all last night, her mind racing as Nick slept soundly next to her. Obsessed with one horrific thought on repeat.

_ What if he doesn’t come back tomorrow? _

Eventually, she stops praying for sleep and gets up quietly, preparing the last of their coffee. She adds powdered creamer and sugar to hers, leaving his black, the way he likes it. She prepares the last packet of instant oatmeal for him. Shaking her head as she muses that he was still too thin. That was the only thing that’d worried her in the last few weeks since his confessions. He still wasn’t eating enough. Always insisting she took her portion first or giving her the last of his, not concerned with his own well being. 

Nick wakes, blinking as familiar smells fill the room. He joins her at the table, waking up slowly. Sitting with his eyes closed, sipping his coffee. Ignoring the food she’d placed in front of him. 

As the sun finally rises, they’re both quieter than normal. June lost in her worry, Nick lost in his, both knowing he’ll have to leave soon. Nick sighs, taking the last swing of his coffee. It’s time. 

“I should go,” he says, setting his mug down. He motions towards the oatmeal. “You can have this.”

June leans forward to look in the bowl from across the table. It’s barely been touched. She shakes her head definitively. “I made that for _ you _.”

“I’m full,” Nick replies, reaching for his backpack and unzipping it, digging through it to avoid eye contact, pretending to inventory his supplies.

_ Bullshit _. 

June crosses her arms. “You had four bites.”

Nick exhales sharply as he finally looks up at June. He considers his words carefully, trying to defuse the situation. “I’m okay. _ You _ need to eat too.”

June’s defenses soften as she sees his downcast eyes, his thumb tapping nervously on the table. 

“Nick,” she whispers as he starts to shake his head.

“It’s the last of it...” he says softly. Remembering the hellish days his food ran out in Chicago. Knowing he’d do anything he had to so that she never had to know that feeling. 

“You’re going out for more,” June counters. “And there’s still plenty of stuff here for me.”

Nick sighs. Resigned, he pulls his bowl back towards him and picks up the spoon, pushing it around like a little boy that can’t leave the table until he’s finished his dinner. He takes another bite, hating himself as he does. 

June’s had enough. She shakes her head, rising to her feet. 

_ He needs to eat and not feel bad about it. _

Nick looks up, startled, as she moves around the table, sitting down next to him, putting her hand on his forearm, waiting until his eyes meet hers. 

“This isn’t Chicago.” 

Her voice is gentle yet firm. 

Nick looks away but June reaches over to tilt his head back in her direction. His eyebrows are furrowed together, his gaze unfocused. She rubs her thumb on his cheek, grounding him.

“You’re safe,” she continues. “I’m safe. We have more than enough food. There’s lots of peanut butter left. There’s water. I’ll be fine. I’ll eat after you go. But I need _ you _to eat. So you have enough strength to get back to me tonight.”

His jaw clenches. He swallows hard, his face relaxing slightly as he exhales. 

June smiles, leaning in for a quick kiss before she stands again. 

“Finish your oatmeal,” she says, her tone lighter. “And you’re taking the rest of the jerky.”

* * *

Around midday, June gets an idea. And before she can convince herself it’s a bad one, she springs into action, happy to have something to do to keep herself from worrying about Nick. She collects every spare pillow she can find around the cabin along with every blanket, sheet, and quilt, using them to build a nest in front of the fireplace. She ventures out into the snow to gather some of their cut firewood, piling the kindling in the fireplace for later.

Last, once the sun is close to setting and she knows Nick’s arrival should be imminent, she cooks. She prepares more food at once than she has in a long time, deciding that for one night, they’re not rationing. 

She sets two places at the small dining table after draping it with a clean bedsheet. She smiles, stepping back and surveying her handiwork with pride. It was a day well spent. But as her eyes settle on the door, the anxiety she’d managed to keep at bay all day starts to trickle back in.

_ C’mon Nick. _

Luckily, she doesn’t have to wait long. Shortly after the sun sets, just as she finishes starting the fire, her heart skips a beat excitedly at the sound of the lock turning in the door. 

Nick comes inside stomping the snow off his boots, his face flushed from the cold, two big black duffel bags hanging from his shoulders. He closes and locks the door behind him, pausing as he takes in the changes in the cabin. June smiles as she walks over to meet him at the door. He drops the bags of supplies to the floor as his brow furrows in confusion. 

“What’s this?” He asks as he unzips his coat. June helps him pull it off and hangs it on a rack by the door.

“Dinner,” June replies, her eyes shining as she watches Nick process the makeshift tablecloth, the place settings, the fire. 

The left side of his mouth twitches upward into a smile. 

“I feel like I need a tie…” he jokes.

June smiles again, stepping back to give him a chance to unlace and remove his boots. 

She heads into the kitchen, picking a pot up off the hot plate and bringing it over to the table, pouring the contents into two bowls. 

“Tonight’s meal is three courses. We’re starting with minestrone soup prepared by the fine chefs at Campbell. For the main course, we have whole wheat bowtie pasta, simmered in locally sourced well water and seasoned with salt. It’s accompanied by sweet whole kernel corn and black beans. Dessert is sliced peaches topped with a graham cracker crumble.”

Nick walks towards her slowly, his face unreadable as he looks from the table to June. 

“I used to watch a lot of Food Network,” June jokes, earning a chuckle from Nick, his face relaxing as he shakes his head.

“Is this our first date?” He asks suddenly and June looks around, at the tablecloth and place settings, seeing it from Nick’s perspective. She laughs.

It _ is _ their first date.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” she confirms, taking a step towards Nick. He’s wearing a relaxed smile and moving towards her too, eyes full of emotion. When they get close to one another Nick pulls her in for a hug, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly. “Thank you,” he whispers against her hair. June nods, inhaling his scent as she presses her face into his chest. 

Nick kisses the crown of her head before he pulls away, stepping over to her seat at the table, pulling it out for her and smiling expectantly. 

June takes the offered seat and Nick takes his. They smile at each other from across the table, lit by the flickering amber glow of the fire. They sip water from mason jars and savor the canned minestrone. The makeshift moment is humble but perfect— more romantic than any five-star restaurant could ever be. 

* * *

After dinner, June convinces Nick to leave the empty dishes on the table and join her in front of the dying fire. 

While June positions the blankets and pillows to make the floor more comfortable for them, Nick throws two more logs on the fire, bringing it roaring back to life, the orange flames crackling and popping loudly. Satisfied, he finally settles down next to June. 

They both sit on pillows with their backs against the threadbare loveseat. June tosses a pile of blankets over Nick’s lap before leaning over, one arm resting across his torso as she settles against him.

She sighs as his fingers settle on her side. She tilts her head back to look up at him- his face content and relaxed as he watches the fire, the flames flickering in his dark eyes. He’d finally eaten a full meal. She can tell it had done him good. He needed it. She’s relieved.

Nick looks down at June and the coy smile on her face, the mischief glimmering in her eyes. 

“So how was your date?” She asks, her tone light and playful. 

Nick tries to fight a smile. He clears his throat and nods. “Best first date I ever had. I hope I get to see her again.” June rolls her eyes, his attempts at flirting still no better, even after years of failed attempts. His eyes shine with amusement at her reaction. He returns the question, eager to play along. “What about you?”

She shrugs against him. “Well... he didn’t ask me to put out, so…” 

Nick’s laughter interrupts her, deep and genuine, from his very core. His eyes wrinkle in the corners as they squeeze closed and a wide smile lights up his face. 

June can’t help but smile too, her words trailing off as she sits up a little straighter next to him, wanting to remember everything about this moment. She can’t remember ever seeing him laugh this hard before. It’s beautiful. Once his laughter subsides, she continues. 

“To be honest though, I _ was _impressed. I’ve never been on a date where the guy hiked our food to us five miles through the snow. It was very romantic. I think I’ll call him back.” 

They grow quiet for a moment, the air changing around them, before Nick leans in wordlessly and kisses her. 

June brings her hand up to cup his face, opening to him and deepening the kiss. Nick moans against her as she tangles her fingers in his hair. He brings one of his hands up to her face, gently tugging her chin down with his thumb, kissing her passionately until she finally breaks away to catch her breath, resting her forehead against his and trying to calm her racing heart. 

Nick shifts, first kissing her cheek, and then her jaw, and then her neck, his gentle lips moving down slowly and setting June’s body on fire. Her eyes flutter closed as she melts into him. 

Then suddenly, June’s eyes snap open as the strangest feeling of déjà vu overtakes her. 

_I’ve been here before. It was just like this._ _The fire, the couch, the cabin. Nick. Dinner. All of it. Exactly like this._ _Perfect. Idyllic._

She closes her eyes again, tensing up, the feeling too jarring for her to overcome. She’s been here before. She’s certain of it. But something’s wrong. The feeling is deeply disturbing but she can’t put her finger on why. 

Immediately sensing the change, Nick stops kissing, leaning back and looking at her, his eyebrows furrowed together in concern. “What?”

June shakes her head, still trying to settle the storm of unrest swirling in her mind. “I’ve been here before.”

Nick’s concern switches to confusion, his head tilting slightly to the side as he waits for June to continue. 

She sighs as she pushes her hair behind her ear. She remembers the dream. It was a good one. So why does she feel so unsettled?

“I used to imagine this,” she motions with her hand, sweeping it around broadly. “And it was always just like it is right now. With the fire and you and…” she pauses for a second, letting the memory of her fantasy flood back in, hoping to remember what detail she’s missing. Finally, she thinks lands on why it feels different. 

“Well, except in the dream _ you _ were cooking for _ me._”

“That’s how you know it was a dream,” Nick jokes. “I’m a terrible cook.”

June laughs, feeling the storm starting to settle. “No, it was good.”

“It was a dream.”

June rolls her eyes. “Well, in the dream you’re a great cook,” She barrels forward with her story, feeling more like herself. “And you were making dinner and I was here reading to Hol—”

She stops abruptly, realizing why the situation now feels so wrong compared to the dream. Why her mind was screaming at her that something was amiss.

_ Holly. _

She swallows hard as she looks down at her hands, feeling guilt wash over her. They’ve been here for weeks, so lost in each other they’ve barely spoken about her. But now, her absence feels like it’s too much, too big. Now that they’re on the road to recovery themselves she realizes they’re a puzzle without its last piece. 

“I miss her,” Nick quietly confesses and June looks up at him. “I’ve been thinking about her too,” he continues.

“It’s not right without her,” June says quietly, letting the statement hang in the air between them. 

She knows what this means, and looking at Nick, she knows he’s coming to the same conclusion himself. They can’t think about just themselves anymore. It’s time to move on.

“We can’t stay here, can we?” 

Nick’s head shakes almost imperceptibly. “I’d stay here forever with you if we could,” he begins, and June has to suppress a smile. “But I know she needs us. And we need her.”

Quietly, June leans back in against Nick’s side, hugging him tightly, relieved they’re on the same page. She exhales sharply and they settle against each other, each of them lost in their own minds. 

“She won’t know me, will she?” Nick says suddenly, his voice low, thick with sadness. 

June feels her heart lurch as she pulls back to look at him, his eyes downcast, forehead creased with worry. Turned completely inward with his own sorrow and the real fear that he’ll be a complete stranger to his daughter. 

She understands why he feels this way. Holly has been with a different family. People will tell Holly about her mother. They’ll show her pictures. She’ll know June, and there’s never been any doubt about that. But Nick doesn’t have that same comfort. There’s nothing to tie him to Holly. 

June scoots closer to Nick, reaching out and taking his hand. Instinctively, his fingers curl around hers.

“Hey,” she says softly, giving him a moment to gather himself and look up at her. When he does, his eyes are swimming, glassy with unshed tears. She smiles softly at him. 

“You wrote to her. I’m sure Moira read her your letter.”

He swallows hard. She can tell he isn’t convinced. She squeezes his hand.

“And I might have mentioned you once or twice in my letters.” She rubs her thumb on the back of his hand. “How brave you are. How good you are.”

He releases a shuddery exhale as he blinks rapidly, a single tear rolling down his cheek. His eyes flutter upward as he takes a second to gather himself before returning his gaze to her, looking at her in that way that makes her knees feel like jelly, that makes her feel like the world could stop spinning outside and he’d never know it as long as she was with him. She can see that he loves her more than he’ll ever be able to say. 

Finally, Nick gathers himself and nods. He clears his throat. “As soon as the ice thaws. We’ll go.”

June smiles. A few more weeks to themselves and then they’ll find their way to their daughter. “Sounds like a plan.”

They fall asleep tangled together in the nest of pillows and blankets, safe in the warmth and comfort of the fire and each other. Finally daring to dream of a future even better than this heaven they had made together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we've reached the end of another story in this series! Thank you for continuing to read! We have two more installments planned for this story to reach the end, please make sure you bookmark the "When You Find Me" series to catch the end of this tale! It'll be worth it!

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk with us on tumblr about this amazing ship! @dystopiandramaqueen and @splitscreen


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